


vacancy

by orphan_account



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Naruto, M/M, Med Students Sasuke and Sakura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Sasuke,” Naruto says, very seriously, “You make a mean omelette.”Sasuke looks at him like he’s a fucking idiot and says, “What the fuck?”Or, Sasuke house-sits for Sakura and Naruto has a few problems with that.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 11
Kudos: 228





	vacancy

Naruto shuts the door with a loud, ceremonious thud. Thoughts momentarily on flatline, he leans against the door and lets out a shaky exhale. His heart hammers crazily in his chest. Fuck. _Fuck_ —he grabs his phone from his pocket and calls the only person he can blame things to other than himself.

“You did this on purpose,” he hisses the minute the call picks up.

“Hello to you too, Naruto,” comes Sakura’s dulcet voice Naruto normally finds lovely except, well, now, “How’re your artworks going?”

“Don’t change the subject! Uchiha Sasuke? _Really?_ ”

Sakura laughs. “So you already saw him?”

“I saw him, and he sure as hell saw _me_ ,” Naruto says, detaching his back from the door to deposit the pizza box on the kitchen table and detouring to the bedroom. “I wanted the ground to swallow me whole the minute we made eye contact, Sakura. I probably looked like shit.”

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

“I haven’t showered in two days,” Naruto laments, flicking the bedroom light on. “Plus, my hoodie looks like it had never met a washing machine in its whole life.” He catches a glimpse of his reflection on the mirror and— “Oh god, I have paint on my hair and _face_.”

“Naruto,” Sakura sighs when he continues to whine into the receiver, “ _Naruto_. It’s alright. Sasuke’s never been the type of guy to care about physical appearances.”

Naruto throws himself to the bed and mumbles against the comforter.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Naruto turns his cheek to the right. “I said—how long is he staying?”

“As long as I’m gone.”

“ _What_?” Naruto hisses in alarm, “You mean he’s staying for two weeks?”

“About that. Yeah.”

Naruto feels every nerve in his body alight. “Now I know you’re actually doing this on purpose. I could’ve looked after the plants for you, you know that. I’ve taken care of plants before.”

Sakura hums. “Mhm, and where are they now?”

Naruto thinks of pots dotted with dead leaves like some sort of omen. “That’s not the point! The point is that I love plants despite all that and it would’ve been convenient if you’d just given me the house-sitting task but instead, you gave it to Sasuke!”

“Are you complaining?” Sakura asks in a deadpan voice. “Do you want me to send him back, then?”

“I—that’s not it,” Naruto stammers. “It’s just that—has the guy even watered a plant in his life? Ever?”

“It’s not something that requires experience, Naruto.”

“Oh so _now_ it’s okay to have bad track record in taking care of plants.”

“Oh, shut up.” Naruto can imagine her rolling her eyes. “Besides, it’s not like I forced him to do this or hand-picked him for the job. He volunteered himself.”

Naruto blinks. “He what?”

“I don’t know,” Sakura says, and from the other end Naruto hears voices pick up, “I mentioned the whole thing to him last week and he told me he could do it.”

“Jesus, that’s strange. Did you ask him why?”

“What, you want me to scare him off or something?” Sakura snorts, soft against the entire noisy backdrop, “It’s probably because our university’s closer to my apartment than his. It’s convenient for him.”

“Are you paying him?”

“I offered to but he didn’t accept,” she says. “He did ask me to record the speakers in the convention for him, though.”

Naruto feels himself smile. “Right. Of course.”

“Well, anyway, I have to go. Break’s ending in 2 minutes,” she says, and Naruto hears someone call her name. “Talk to him, okay? Stop being a wuss.”

“I’m not a—”

“And take care of yourself,” she cuts him off with a disapproving tut, “I know the show’s soon but you’re gonna need to eat and sleep too. And shower.” Naruto can imagine her crinkling her nose. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“Of course I’ll take care of—”

“Promise me!”

“Alright,” Naruto sighs, sitting up. “I promise to take care of myself. And I’ll shower and eat and take a break tonight.”

“Good,” Sakura says, satisfied. “I’ll know if you lie. I’ll send Sasuke. Do you want me to send Sasuke?”

Naruto feels panic rise. “No! No—not uh. Not tonight.”

“Not tonight, huh?” Sakura teases, “So you’re okay if I send him next time?”

Someone calls her name again, louder this time, and Naruto uses that against her. “Get back to that convention, Doctor. Stop bullying me.”

“Not a doctor yet,” Sakura says, and the pleased giggle in her voice makes Naruto smile. “I’ll go now. Bye, Naruto!” and the call drops with a soft, abrupt click. He drops his phone to the bed and lets out a loud sigh. When he turns, he catches himself on the mirror again—electric blues and loud yellows on his unruly hair. He remembers the quick flash of recognition in Sasuke’s eyes and his heart skips a beat. Right. Despite his nerves, he’s always liked a bit of challenge. Giddiness funnels to his chest. Maybe a bit of foolish hope, too. But—shower first. Woo Sasuke second. He stands up to grab a towel from the hanger behind the door and walks to the bathroom with a skip in his step.

Naruto stares at the basket in his hand. Sakura had advised him the stuff to get and their ideas combined was a bizarre mesh of stuff—veggie crackers, a can of pesticide, some frozen dango he can reheat, scented soap, two boxes of takeaway bento (Sasuke will invite him in… right?). A pair of wool socks, too. And a thin-paged novel about God-knows-what. With Sakura’s encouragement and Naruto’s uncanny ability to pluck confidence out of the mud, he walks up to Sasuke’s—well, Sakura’s—door and eagerly knocks.

No answer.

He knocks again.

Nothing. When he raises his knuckles to knock again, the door swings open and his arm automatically falls to his side. Sasuke stares at him cautiously from the other side of the door. Unperturbed, Naruto grins, “Hi, neighbor! I brought a little something for you.”

Sasuke’s gaze drops to the basket. “What’s that?”

“A welcoming basket!” Naruto chirps, raising it with a slight jiggle.

“A welcoming basket?”

“Yeah, since you just moved here and all,” Naruto says, nodding to himself, “It’s customary to give gifts to new neighbors, ya know.”

Sasuke lifts an eyebrow. “I didn’t move in. I’m only staying for two weeks.”

“No, I know that!” Naruto insists, and Sasuke’s brow arches higher, “I know that! Still, you’re new here and I thought it’d be nice to give you a few gifts. I—look, I’m just being friendly, alright?” He gets frustrated when Sasuke just blinks at the basket nudged closer to him. “C’mon! Just accept the damn basket!”

Voice wry, Sasuke says, “That doesn’t sound like a friendly tone to me.”

“Well, you’re not exactly making it easy for me to be friendly!” Naruto growls, statement losing its bite when Sasuke finally accepts the basket, and Naruto turns his head the other way as if to hide the pleased ruffle in his chest that’ll surely reflect in his very telling eyes (Sakura had told him about this), “About time, bastard, I thought I had to give you the basket by force.”

Sasuke snorts. “As if you can.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very physical!” Naruto protests as Sasuke’s detachedly peruses through the stuff that admittedly looks like a check-list for a modern witch’s cauldron. “I did Judo until 9th grade and I work out! Not regularly, but as much as I can! When my schedule allows. And it’s not like I’m too busy or anything but sometimes the creative juices just flow, ya know, and you can’t stop if you don’t want to lose the momentu—are you even listening, bastard!”

Sasuke fishes something from the basket. “Wool socks?”

“Well—yeah,” Naruto says, looking away from Sasuke’s cagy eyes, a bit embarrassed, “It’s almost winter and it sometimes gets too cold here, you know.” Like a moth to a flame, Naruto’s eyes magnet back to Sasuke’s again, expecting a snort or something equally disapproving that’ll probably get to Naruto’s nerves. Instead, Sasuke just hums and places the socks back to its place on top of the bento. Which reminds Naruto—

“Anyway, that’s it,” Naruto says, voice going for hopeful. “I just came by to give you that.”

Sasuke nods.

Naruto wilts, hopes crushed when Sasuke doesn’t say anything. “Right. I’ll be, uh, I’ll be going now. I guess.” He clears his throat. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Sasuke says back, and Naruto’s eyes linger before he turns away and walks down the hall. He remembers the two bento boxes he’d strategically placed there and sighs. At least Sasuke doesn’t have to worry about breakfast tomorrow, anymore.

When he’s done updating Sakura about the whole thing and lamenting his misfortune, he plops face-first to the bed with a loud sigh. Half-finished paintings wait for him in the living room. Maybe he’ll work on a new one tonight. Something sombre, something blue. A new piece to the other half of his collection. Maybe he’ll even finish it tonight. Yeah. He can do that. Naruto picks himself up, already feeling a bit better about the entire prospect, and just as he does, he hears a sharp knock to the door. His thoughts straighten to exclamation points.

Perhaps…. ?

His feet carefully pad through a framework of easels. Slowly, he opens the door and tries to fight back a smile when he confirms his suspicion. Sasuke stands outside, arms crossed, expression exasperated even before they talk. “Sakura said—” he starts, sighs, “Sakura said to invite you to the apartment for dinner.”

Naruto leans an ear in teasingly. “What was that?”

“I’m not repeating myself,” Sasuke says, eyes narrowing when he turns on his heels and Naruto doesn’t follow—just stands on the threshold with a grin. “Moron. You coming or what?”

Naruto snaps out of it. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to be a jerk about it. Just—” he disappears back to the apartment to grab his phone and keys and slides his feet into his slippers as he locks the door. Sasuke’s already down the hall. Naruto sends a quick _what did you tell him_ to Sakura and runs to catch up. “Hey, wait for me!”

Naruto yelps when Sasuke closes the door to his face. Trying the knob, though, he finds it unlocked and he marches into the apartment angrily. “Fucking dick,” he says to the apartment, looking for Sasuke, “Should’ve planted a glitter bomb in that basket.”

He hears noise from the kitchen and heads there. Sasuke snorts, apparently having heard Naruto’s previous statement, “Are you an 8-year-old?”

“I’m not the one who shut the door on someone’s face.”

“You were being slow,” Sasuke says, as if that’s completely reasonable, and Naruto just mutters a soft _jerk_ under his breath. He’d retort properly if he weren’t too distracted by the table where the bento boxes lie and bowls of some homemade soup too. What catches his attention, though, is the novel Naruto had gifted him that sits alongside the food. Page bookmarked to a little bit past the intro. So he’d already starting reading it, then? Feeling oddly satisfied, Naruto plops to the seat. He feels his phone vibrate and when he looks at the notification, it’s a message from Sakura.

 _I may have bribed him with notes_.

Naruto snorts, placing his phone face down on the table. Sasuke plants two glasses of water on the table and seats himself in front of Naruto. “Clearly, you had a plan,” Sasuke says, and Naruto blinks at him for a few seconds before realizing he’s talking about the bentos.

He sputters. “It’s nice eating dinner with someone, okay!”

“Sure,” Sasuke snorts, breaking his chopsticks, “And you obviously chose your favorite, too.”

“What, do you not like chicken?” Naruto asks, peeling plastic off his own.

“I’m okay with it.”

“But?”

“I personally prefer beef,” Sasuke proffers, fishing radish off the box, “but chicken is okay, too.”

“I—wh, you should’ve told me!”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “Told you to buy beef without even knowing you were going to buy me dinner in the first place?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Naruto fumbles, and adds with a mutter, mostly to himself, “I’m buying beef next time.”

“I said it’s fine, Naruto. It’s not like I don’t eat chicken.”

“Whatever,” Naruto sniffs, and Sasuke just shakes his head, watching Naruto pick on his rice. They eat quietly for a while, Naruto messily hogging all the soup, and Sasuke mindfully peeling the novel off the table and onto the vacant seat next to him. Naruto’s mind goes back to it and he asks, “So you liked it, then?”

“Liked what?”

“The novel,” Naruto said, chewing on a mouthful of onigiri, and Sasuke throws him a dirty look. He swallows his food before talking again. “You were reading it earlier, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you like it?”

“I haven’t finished it so I don’t know.”

“Why do you have to finish it to know if you like it?”

Sasuke looks at him like he’s an idiot and has no qualms on voicing it out. “Are you an idiot?”

“I’m not—I didn’t mean, like, if you liked _the_ book!” Naruto says, frustrated, the judging furrow on Sasuke’s forehead aggravating, “I meant if you liked the _book_. Like, in itself! Not the novel! Not the—the, the story—or whatever!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You mean if I liked the idea of you giving me a book?”

Naruto practically bounces on his seat. “Yeah, yeah!”

“It’s… okay,” Sasuke chooses to say, gulping down his water. “It’s new.”

Naruto grins, satisfied with the answer. “Good.”

Later, Naruto offers to help with the dishes which isn’t a lot. Two bowls, two glasses, the wooden chopsticks which Sasuke wanted to keep. Sasuke just shrugged and said _suit yourself_ before presumably disappearing into the living room. When Naruto finishes, it’s a little bit past nine and his skeletal easels call for him louder at the back of his mind. Albeit hesitantly, Naruto looks for Sasuke to excuse himself and finds him reading on the couch, legs propped to the coffee table. “Hey,” he says, and Sasuke looks up from the novel, “I kind of have to leave now.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah,” Naruto says, “Um, see you. Thanks for the dinner.” He frowns, realizing he’d technically bought it. “I guess.”

Sasuke snorts softly, getting back to his novel.

“Right. Okay,” Naruto says awkwardly, and his eyes fleet to the basket on the coffee table, next to Sasuke’s ankles, and he notices most of the objects still untouched but the wool socks nowhere to be seen. His thoughts offhandedly wander. “Good night.”

“Night,” he hears Sasuke say softly when Naruto turns away. He walks past a jungled hallway, slumbering flowers, emerald leaves, all spilling to the floor. Looking at Sasuke’s figure on the couch one last time, he closes the door to the apartment and trudges back to his own.

Naruto holes himself in his apartment for days. He paints until the harlequin monstrosities on his canvases turn to at least a semblance of art. Dawn of Thursday, he is struck by a sudden idea and paints his wrists sore the whole day. He can’t stop, he can’t afford to. Not when the showcase is nearing and he still only has a quarter of his artworks to show for. It’s not enough. Sakura calls him past eight and barks at him until he gets his ass off the apartment to take a break.

“I’m gonna fly back there and personally wack you in the head, Naruto, don’t try me,” she warns, and Naruto gulps at the imaginary pain, “It’s 8pm, how the hell have you not eaten a single thing the whole day?”

Entering the elevator, Naruto mutters, “I ate crackers during lunch.”

“That doesn’t count!” Sakura snaps, and then she sighs, “God, it’s like you’re determined to test me on everything I’ve learned for the past 5 years. Do you know what happens to your body when you skip a meal?”

“I know, I know!” Naruto scrambles to say because if he doesn’t, Sakura will drone about it and he’ll be forced to listen to medical jargons for the next hour, “I’m sorry, alright? I’ll get dinner, I promise. Ichiraku’s is still open at this time.”

Sakura starts to fume. “Ramen again!”

“It’s not even instant so it’s fine,” Naruto whines, “Sakura, please. I deserve this. I’ve been working hard the past week, you know.”

Defeated, Sakura sighs. “Fine. But that’s the last time you’re getting ramen this week.”

“Yeah, I swear,” Naruto says. Sakura rattles on a bit more about skipping meals and staying up and the importance of using the stairs instead of the elevator so Naruto can get his daily exercise. At that, Naruto walks out of the shaft guiltily and lies through his teeth, “Of course I take the stairs, Sakura, the elevator’s old and creepy, anyway.”

When the call ends, Naruto slips his phone into the pocket of his hoodie and tucks his hands in there too. He sleepily trudges to the apartment lobby, dimly-lit and donning nothing but a single long chair and two creaky vending machines. Which—hm.

Naruto pats his pockets to heaven and back for spare change and is pleased to find one tucked to the back of his jeans. He drives the coin into the slot. The vending machine whirrs mechanically but the drink doesn’t drop to the waiting platform below. He clicks the button again and sighs out a, “Crap.”

He waits a bit more, swings a bit on his heels. Nothing. He knocks on the glass, expecting something. Anything. But—nothing. Starting to feel impatient, he crouches and looks for the drink, frowning when he sees empty space. “Is this thing broken,” he mumbles tiredly, “How does this—” and he kicks the machine a total of two times just to check.

“Try using your head,” comes a voice from behind him, and he whips to see Sasuke who’d apparently just arrived in the lobby.

“What do you mean try using my head,” Naruto asks, looking back at the vending machine, then back to Sasuke. “I already pressed on the button again and waited for like a minute. It’s not exactly a problem you can outsmart.”

Sasuke says, “No, I mean.”

But he doesn’t continue and oh, _Oh_. Naruto realizes, fuming, and he hotly says, “Fucking dick,” as he tries not to focus on the way the corner of Sasuke’s mouth had lifted just the slightest in amusement, “Why don’t _you_ use your fucking head, huh, dipshit, since you’re so thick-skulled anyway.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Asshole,” Naruto growls, and he kicks on the vending machine again just because he can, trying to pretend it’s Sasuke’s shins he’s hitting. The machine groans once, twice, before spitting out two cans of coffee instead of just one.

Sasuke snorts. “Seems like you and the machine agree that things can somehow be solved with brute force.” He looks at Naruto picking up the cans, its branded metal cool against his palm, before starting to trudge to the stairwell. Panicking at the sight of Sasuke’s retreating back when he straightens out, he stammers, “Wait!”

Sasuke pauses to throw him a questioning look over his shoulder.

“You uh,” Naruto says, actually having nothing to say, and his eyes catch on the drinks in his hands, “You can have the other one!”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “You want me to have the other coffee?”

“Um, uh, yeah,” Naruto swallows, holding it out, “I only bought one but the machine fucked up, I guess. It’s not like I can finish both anyway.”

“I don’t know,” Sasuke drawls but he walks back to take the can from Naruto anyway, “You kind of look like you need two cups of coffee. Maybe even more.” He gives Naruto a pointed look, eyes dragging from his tired face to his untamed mop of golden hair obviously ruffled even beneath the hood.

Embarrassed, Naruto flushes. “Bastard!”

“Thanks for the coffee,” Sasuke smirks. “Try not to sleep while crossing the street.” And then he leaves, disappearing up the stairwell and leaving Naruto bothered and combing a hand through his stubborn hair in a futile attempt to pat it down.

Obviously, Sasuke isn’t a people person. He hedges. He shuts down a lot. The first time Naruto met him, Sakura passing by Naruto in the apartment lobby on a twilight with Sasuke in tow, he’d said a total of two words when they were introduced and none of it had been to _Naruto_. Shy isn’t something he’d call Sasuke—not really. He’s clearly confident enough about his abilities and _looks_. He doesn’t panic over social situations. And he sure as hell has no threshold on being mean when he’s annoyed. He’s far from shy but Naruto would call him reserved. It takes time for him to open up and to even consider befriending other people. For Sakura, she’d said it had taken her almost two years. For Naruto, it’d taken him two months.

He guesses it’s what Jiraiya had always told him about: his uncanny ability to befriend people and to reach out. Reading Sasuke was hard— _is_ hard. He barely shows hints of emotions other than amused and annoyed. So Naruto, ever so stubborn, had made it his personal mission a year ago to gauge as much reactions from Sasuke as possible and it’s rare but Sasuke, every once in a while, _does_ slip.

He’d made a rough, mental list of those times and called it _PROOF THAT SASUKE HAS EMOTIONS LIKE THE COLORS OF A RAINBOW_ and tucked it to the back of his head, four neat folds, for future reference.

  1. Telling him Itachi would be proud of him ( _Naruto made this offhanded comment once when Sasuke and Sakura had been comparing test results and Sasuke had blinked back his shock before schooling his eyes to a neutral expression; he couldn’t hide the happy slant of his lips though as he drank his water in an effort to appear casual._ )
  2. Naruto retelling a story on how kids in middle-school used to taunt him about jumping between different foster parents ( _Sasuke looked angry a lot because of his perpetually straight brows and the natural downward incline of his mouth but he looked properly mad as Naruto told him the story, drunk and lying on the carpet and past wounds smarting still but not so much now that he’s found new family; it could be his drunk mind making up things, though, but Naruto still puts it on the list_.)
  3. Trying to comfort him about his OSCE results ( _It’s not like he had failed. He’d gotten high remarks, in fact, but apparently he’d taken too long in a station and his supervisor had censured him about it, telling him the case would’ve gone entirely wrong had it been in real life. He didn’t like being comforted but really, what was Naruto supposed to do when Sasuke looked like something had been weighing him down physically and all Naruto wanted to do was take him into his arms?_ )



Naruto isn’t the smartest—that’s old news. He’s loud and pushy and sometimes (most times, Sasuke would argue) has barely any filter. So it’s what makes him stare at Sasuke in utter amazement as they walk the bleary streets and he blurts out, “You have a pimple.”

Sasuke shoots him a look. “And?”

“Nothing. It’s just—” Naruto shakes his head, still staring at the little bump just below Sasuke’s lower lip, pale red and angry, “I’ve never seen you with one before.”

“Congrats,” Sasuke says with a twinge of annoyance in his voice, “Now you have.”

Naruto continues blinking at it. “Is that your first one?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Like, in your life?” Naruto asks stupidly, and Sasuke’s face contorts into deeper vexation, “Wait, no, that’s dumb—”

“Were you dropped in the head as a kid?” Sasuke grits, turning his face away from Naruto’s watchful eyes, “Do you not understand how pimples work? Have you never seen one before? Is it your first time?”

“Well, no—”

“Then why the fuck are you asking if it’s my first pimple, you dumb shit, if you know that everyone experiences it upon adolescence?”

“I—it’s just that, uh,” Naruto’s tongue darts to wet his lips nervously, “I’ve never seen you with one before and I thought—”

“You thought what?”

“I don’t know!” Naruto says, frustrated, looking at it once again then away, “You’re just—like, mostly—” Perfect, he can’t say _perfect_. Sasuke will hold it to his head like a gun for the rest of his life. “It happens to the rest of us but it—it’s not normal for you, okay? And I was just surprised, that’s all, because your skin is usually so spotless.”

Sasuke growls, turning his head further away so Naruto sees only his hair sticking up from the back. “It’s almost winter, and my skin usually gets bad because of the cold.”

Eloquently, Naruto says, “Oh.”

When it’s clear that Sasuke still refuses to look at Naruto, he tries to go for reassuring and says, “It’s not something to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m not embarrassed about it,” Sasuke snarls, whipping his head around to look at Naruto, “I’m not vain. It’s a normal hormonal thing. I just don’t like you looking at me like you’re witnessing a revelation or something.”

Naruto flushes. “I didn’t look at you like that.”

Sasuke just scoffs and treads ahead to put a few feet between them.

“Look, it’s not my fault I can’t help but look at it,” Naruto says, trying to catch up, “I’m just not used to it. That’s all.” When his footsteps fall into pace with Sasuke’s again, his gaze catches on Sasuke’s chin, then to his cold-bitten nose, and to his indignant eyes looking ahead. He almost looks… embarrassed? But not about the pimple, he’s sure. And as Naruto stares, trying to commit the memory to mind, trying to figure out if the way Sasuke’s Adam’s apple is bobbing right now is any indication of his own nerves, Sasuke’s gaze slides to his, cheeks flushed at the slightest and—oh, that’s new. It’s definitely going to the list, he thinks, just as Sasuke snaps, “Stop staring, weirdo.”

“It’s cute, alright?” Naruto bites back, and when he realizes what he’d just admitted to, his cheeks turn a violent red, darker than Sasuke’s, and his heart beats tenfold into his chest as he looks away. “Fuck you. _Fuck_ you. Frigid dick. Should’ve been Sakura instead of you dragging me outside to eat.”

“Well then go get a plane ticket and fly to where she is,” Sasuke grits, and it’s Naruto that absolutely refuses to look at him this time. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at taking care of yourself so Sakura has to blackmail me into babying you.”

“She’s not blackmailing you, you jerk, and it’s not as if she forced you to house-sit for her—

“Well if I’d known the house-sitting came with a babysitting task then I wouldn’t have agreed—”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have, asshole, and maybe tonight wouldn’t have been ruined for me and I would’ve gotten to finish some work—”

“Do you think you’re the only one busy, you fucking dumbass?”

Naruto opens his mouth to retort again but gets cut off by the sweet chime of a bell. Overhead hangs a honeyed sign of the diner’s name and the frazzled lady who’d just stepped out the door gives them a ruminating look before walking away, her heels clicking against the sidewalk like a countdown. Naruto counts three breaths to calm himself before sighing. He says, “Look, we’re already here. Let’s just eat, okay? Clearly, today’s not our day and we’ll just tire ourselves if we spend our energy on fighting.” 

Sasuke clenches his jaw as Naruto opens the door to gesture him in. “After you.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, and Naruto just shakes his head, closing the door behind him and following suit.

Naruto insists (read: fights Sasuke on the counter again for a whole minute until the server had cleared her throat) on paying for the whole meal. Contrary to Sasuke thinking it had been some sort of a ploy, that fucking dick, Naruto had actually done it as an apology. As they settle in a faraway booth after yet another argument, Naruto says, “Geez, would it kill you to act nice?”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. “I don’t have to be nice to you.”

“Yeah, but you are,” Naruto retorts.

“What?”

“Well, not like all the time,” Naruto explains, taking off his gloves and placing them beside Sasuke’s neat ones on the marbled table, “Most of the time you’re a jerk and you look at me like I’m the dumbest person you’ve met in your life—” Sasuke snorts at that, in approval possibly. Dick. “—but you’re actually real nice, despite all that. Like, even if you don’t _act_ nice, you know what I mean? Sometimes—sometimes, you do nice things but even when you don’t, I still feel like you are, you know?”

Sasuke gives him a look that reads _no, I don’t know_.

“I can’t explain it, alright? You know I was never good with that,” Naruto fumbles, “I just think that—when you bicker it’s your way of showing, uh, affection, you know? And that if you truly hated me— _us_ , including Sakura and your other friends, then you would’ve ignored us altogether instead of putting up with our shit in that weird, twisted way of yours.”

Sasuke just clears his throat after a few gruelling seconds of silence. “Didn’t know you were psychoanalysing me in your free time.”

And there it is—that weird, bitey way of expression again. Naruto snorts, allowing his lips to stretch into a smile. “Whatever, bastard. I’m telling Sakura on you.”

“Go ahead.” Sasuke rolls his eyes. “See if I care.”

“Sure,” Naruto says easily, “You know, you never told me how you became friends with her.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “She never told you?”

“She did,” Naruto says, “ _You_ didn’t. It’s different, you know? I haven’t heard your side of the story.” He folds his hands in front of him. “All I know is that you didn’t acknowledge her presence your first two years in medical school. What’s all that about, anyway?”

“What am I supposed to answer?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Naruto gestures around him vaguely as though that’ll help. “When’d you started becoming friends after those two gap years? Why’d you pay attention to her all of a sudden?” He rolls his eyes when Sasuke just stares at him blankly. “C’mon, tell me the whole story.”

“Which story?”

“What do you mean which story?”

“Before or after she punched me?”

If Naruto had a drink right now, he’d spit it straight out of his mouth and back into the glass. Fortunately, the waitress only arrives with their food now and Naruto’s drink—a mango milk shake—sits untouched and spit-less on the table. After thanking the waitress, Naruto hisses, “What do you mean she _punched_ you?”

Sasuke picks up his fork. “I honestly can’t believe she didn’t tell you. She bragged about it for a year to anyone who’d listen.”

“It’s not my fault we only reconnected two years ago!” Naruto says, strangely aghast but also buzzing with excitement at the newfound knowledge, “Oh my god, Sakura punched you. She actually _punched_ you! Did your nose break? Did you get sent to the hospital? Did you need stitches?”

“Yes, no, and no,” Sasuke answers, “I did get sent to the infirmary though and Sakura got suspended for three days. It’s the only taint to her otherwise perfect record, I think.”

“Oh my god,” Naruto repeats again, jaw dropping, “ _Fuck_. I’m sure you deserved it but—” Sasuke fixes him an unamused look, “—what did you do for her to punch you like that? Sakura’s scarily strong and violent but not _outright_. You’d have to piss her off real hard for her to punch you in the face.”

Sasuke pauses, and Naruto can sense the hesitance and is about to say something about it when Sasuke says, “She had a crush on me.”

Naruto’s fork drops. “ _What?_ ”

“In first year, she had a crush on me,” Sasuke says. “I was a dick about it, I guess. I blatantly pushed her off and rejected her and maybe said some mean things. Then that didn’t seem to work so I decided to just full-on ignore her and then she—she snapped.”

“Oh my _god_.”

“Yeah, we were lab partners at the time but I did the whole experiment while ignoring her. She got pissed because I never replied to her queries, told me to stop acting like a fucking kid because she’s over her school-girl crush on me, and then punched me in the face.”

“Oh my god.” Naruto can’t believe it, and the laughter starts bubbling in his mouth before he can even stop it. “Oh god. Fucking hell. I can’t believe I was robbed of this story for a long time and no one was even planning to tell me about it!”

Sasuke just shakes his head.

“And you! Fucking bastard, you totally deserved that punch,” Naruto says, using his fork to point, and Sasuke drives it away with a frown, “Maybe I should punch you too, huh, just to get you to act nicer to me.”

“You could full-on brawl with me for all I care,” Sasuke drawls, “I’ll never stop calling you a dumbass.”

“What’d you say, bastard?!”

“Idiot.”

“Asshole!”

“Moron.”

“Ice-cold dick,” Naruto says, snark sapped by the flowering grin on his mouth, and he feels an adrenaline rush to his veins when he sees Sasuke fighting his own too. “You’re paying for the food next time.”

Naruto calls Sakura about it the minute he arrives home.

“Hey, Naruto, how’d it go—”

“You never told me you punched Sasuke!”

Sakura pauses from the other line, and Naruto hears a soft, exhaled breath like laughter being stifled. She says, “So that’s what you found out tonight?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I had to hear about the whole thing from him,” Naruto says, staring up the ceiling. “I also didn’t know you had a crush on him.”

“Guess that’s one thing we have in common, huh?”

“Sakura, that’s not the point!”

Patiently, Sakura says, “Then what’s the point, Naruto?”

“You—I—I don’t know!” Naruto says, his thoughts boomeranging dumbly in his head, circling on nothing but Sasuke and the repressed curve of his mouth, so fucking unfairly pretty. Naruto closes his eyes. “Look, I like him. A lot. And it’s kind of worrying. Can you—maybe—give me, you know?”

Unspeaking, Sakura waits for him to explain.

“I don’t know, advice?” Naruto sighs, frustrated.

“Advice?” Sakura sounds surprised, realizing, “You want advice on how to move on from him?” When Naruto doesn’t answer, she exhales and snaps, “Naruto, you fucking dumbass, go talk to him.”

“It’s not that easy,” Naruto says softly, opening his eyes.

“You got him to open up about things he normally doesn’t share with anyone,” Sakura says angrily, “What’s so fucking hard about being upfront with your feelings?”

Naruto shakes his head as though she sees him. “You don’t understand—”

“Damn right I don’t,” Sakura cuts him off, and a bit softly, she adds: “Look, you’re one of the best people I know, okay? And one thing I always admired about you is your courage. Don’t chicken out on this now.” Naruto just sighs. “Naruto, c’mon, you’re gonna have to admit it sooner or later. Sasuke isn’t dense, you know.”

“No, I know that,” Naruto murmurs, “I just need time.”

“Okay, take all the time you want and sweep him off his feet!”

Naruto laughs, feeling a bit better. “Like, literally?”

“Yeah, and then pulverize him to the floor if he rejects you,” Sakura pauses, “Which he hopefully won’t do.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Naruto says, sitting up and looking at the shadows of unfinished artworks outside his bedroom, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll do it during the showcase.”

“No,” Sakura says, confusing Naruto until she squeals into his ear. Ouch. “ _No_ , oh my god, if you actually do that I think I’m going to cry because I won’t be around to see it.” Naruto can imagine the childish jut of her bottom lip. “Call me? Oh, fuck, I’ll probably be on flight around that time.”

Naruto laughs. “Calm down, it’s just an idea. I haven’t even finished the line-up yet.”

“But you are halfway through, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Naruto winces, “I guess. Anyway, I have to go finish a few of them.” He stands up. “Stay safe, okay?”

Sakura yawns through the receiver. “You too. And don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, mom,” he says teasingly, “Good night.”

“Good night, Naruto.”

Sakura calls it the shut-out, self-destructive part of making art. Naruto calls it the most crucial. He sees colors for days. Canvases pour from the living room to the kitchen like tombstones and Naruto dances across them. Smearing paint all over his cheap Russian carpet and trying his fucking best to level the overwhelming swarm of ideas in his head without smothering them. He eats an average of one meal a day—if microwaved mac and cup ramen can even be considered a meal. He leaves his phone on mute. Everyday, Sakura reminds him to eat but he always forgets to reply. Iruka, does, too. Kiba texts him by the third day to ask how he’s been. Tenten texts him by the fourth, asking him how the progress is going. _Just a few pieces more_ , he texts, and she’s the only one he replies to. They’re both artists—kindred spirits, and if anyone understands this whole thing the most, it’s her.

Someone knocks on his door a little bit past seven p.m., or maybe eight. Who knows. The wall clock in his living room has had dead batteries since the dawn of time and Naruto can’t be bothered to change them.

It’s Sasuke when he opens.

“Sasuke,” he blurts, hands automatically flying up to fix his hair, and jerking when he realizes the merlot red smeared across his hand, “Hey, um, what’re you doing here?”

Sasuke fixes him a cool look. “Sakura told me to check if you haven’t been killing yourself with ramen or smothering yourself with paint.”

“I—what—of course, I am!”

Sasuke blinks.

“I mean, of course I am taking care of myself!” Naruto stammers, realizing his mistake, “Not, y’know, not killing myself or whatever. Tell Sakura I’ll be fine, I just need to finish—”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh.”

“Naruto.”

“Um, uh.” Naruto racks his brain for clues, remembering the egg drop ramen (he felt kind of fancy when he’d finished a 30x40) from last night, and he tells Sasuke this. “I even put scallions as topping! Yeah!” He nods, pleased with himself.

Clearly, Sasuke isn’t.

“So you haven’t eaten at all today?”

Naruto avoids his eyes. “I mean, I was planning to after this—”

“Fucking idiot,” Sasuke grumbles, moving past Naruto despite Naruto’s bubbling protests, “Jesus Christ, how do you move around?”

Naruto catches his elbow just as he tries to move past an easel. “Don’t move. Please. I can’t risk any of the paintings smearing or dropping to the ground.” He slides his hands down to Sasuke’s wrist, and Sasuke’s gaze slides along with it. “I just—look, where are you going? I’ll take you there. You just have to follow my steps.”

“The kitchen, moron,” Sasuke says, “You do have something I can cook other than ramen, right?”

Naruto blinks at him owlishly. “You mean you’re going to cook for _me?_ ”

“It’s easier than taking you to the hospital when you faint,” Sasuke gripes, and he nudges Naruto’s wrist with his own which snaps Naruto out of his daze. Naruto says, “Right,” and tugs Sasuke to where the kitchen is, muttering a prayer to the heavens, steps clumsily alert and slow like they’re maneuvering through a room full of laser beams. When they get there, he sighs loudly in relief.

“I—you know I can’t help you out with the cooking, right?” Naruto sheepishly mentions, watching Sasuke scrutinize his fridge, “I have to go back to my paintings.”

Sasuke brings out a mostly-barren egg tray. “It’s not like you can actually help out, anyway, even if you’re not busy.”

“Bastard!” Naruto bursts, and Sasuke quickly shoots him a lofty look before sticking his head back into the fridge. “Whatever. I’m going back. Just—don’t start without me, okay? And don’t leave the kitchen.”

“Stop talking like I’m some housewife,” Sasuke says, and Naruto sputters, red like his paint-swathed forearms. “Go. Stop disrupting my peace.”

Naruto mutters another curse word under his breath as he leaves. He decides to work on a 14x11 for the meantime instead of conquering another 30x40 monster, knowing that he’ll be distracted now that Sasuke’s around. He absently paints for a while until Sasuke calls him from the kitchen. Putting down his brush, he looks at his art-smothered hands and answers, “Coming!

Somehow, Sasuke has managed to make a decent meal out of the bare essentials in his fridge. A bowl of fried rice that looks strangely appetizing and a plate of… is that tomato omelette? sits on the table, and Naruto is convinced Sasuke’s managed to cook up some sort of black magic in the kitchen while Naruto wasn’t around earlier.

His mouth nearly waters when he gets closer enough to smell.

“You only had ingredients for breakfast food so I had to make do with that,” Sasuke tells him, frowning when Naruto graphically groans and digs into the food. “What the fuck—slow down, you heathen.”

“I don’t understand,” Naruto says, mouth full of heavenly food, “I’ve lived in this apartment for two years but I’ve never eaten something as good as this.”

Sasuke looks scandalized. “Even a toddler can cook that.”

“What an extraordinary toddler,” Naruto mutters, and stuffs his face with more food. Sasuke looks like he wants to leave the room. “Wait,” Naruto realizes, gulping down water, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh. Did you eat before coming here?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke says, centering the plate of omelette into the placemat, “Dinner was hours ago, Naruto, it’s almost 12am.”

Naruto stops. “What?”

Sasuke looks at him and realizes. “You absolute idiot,” he exhales what’s probably the last straw of his patience, “Do you have no concept of time?”

“My wall clock broke down a long time ago and I don’t really have time to look at my phone right now.”

“But still,” Sasuke insists, “Doesn’t your body get tired or get hungry or sleepy, at least?”

Naruto smiles sheepishly. “I guess, but, uh—I kinda have to finish, ya know, the exhibit’s close and I have to finish the final line up.”

“When is it?”

“Uh.” Naruto’s eyes dart up, trying to remember, “In, like, three days? It’s on a Saturday, that’s all I know. Today’s Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah.”

Naruto swallows, suddenly nervous. “Um, can you come?” Sasuke looks at him, and he hastily adds, “Only if you can, of course. But even if you aren’t, or you’re not sure, I’m giving you a formal invitation anyway. I’ll mail it to you or something—”

“Naruto.”

“Oh wait, I can probably give it to you personally. Sakura’s coming back Saturday midnight, right? You’ll still be around by afternoon, then. Unless, of course, you have prior arrangements which is actually, totally cool—”

“Naruto.”

“Yes,” Naruto squeaks, clamping his mouth shut, and Sasuke just shakes his head at him. Like a ball dropped from high ground, Naruto’s heart plummets. That is, until Sasuke says, “Of course I’ll come. Stop breaking your own heart.”

His heart soars again. Giddiness thundering in his throat, he exhales out a shaky grin and says, “Bastard.”

“Idiot,” Sasuke returns. To Naruto, it almost sounds warm.

Set up takes nearly seven hours. Naruto finishes everything two hours before D-Day and collapses on the couch before being rudely waken up by his alarm and the fact that he has to manually direct the set up at fucking seven a.m.—exactly twelve hours before the actual exhibit starts. Kiba comes with his truck. Shikamaru comes with an Americano that tastes like it has half a dozen shots. Lee comes with blinding enthusiasm. They take round-trips carefully hauling the paintings down the stairs. When they arrive to the gallery, Naruto acquaints himself with the floor and directs where the paintings will go with a tired flick of his wrist. Seven fucking hours. Before they finished, the staff had consulted Naruto about lights and finger food preferences but he’d been too tired to critically consider each decision.

Well. He sure fucking hopes those yellow lights were as flattering as they promised.

Naruto crashes on the bed the minute he gets home, clothes still unchanged, and sets fifteen alarms for five p.m. He’ll throw himself into a volcano if he somehow manages to fuck up and miss his first ever exhibit.

His solo show.

He exhales out his nerves and lets himself drift off to a wavy slumber.

By the time opening rounds closer, the butterflies in his chest have evolved into an entire zoo. He makes himself look put together as much as possible and drives his senile Honda to the gallery. A thin, single-file crowd has cached outside. Idle murmur carrying in the air but not above. All people—both familiar and unfamiliar—waiting to see months and months of hard work. He’s worked on the line up for months but he’s waited for this moment for years. Fucking literal blood, sweat and tears. Oh, and paint too. The thought makes him fucking sick, and as the staff lets him enter with an acknowledging nod, he goes straight for the golden glasses of beverages (alcoholic, hopefully) near the entrance.

He gives a passing staff a kind smile and tips the entire flute into his mouth the minute she leaves.

Seven p.m. sharp—people start filing in. He’s downed about three glasses (it was a Moscato, according to one of the lady staff) by then.

“Naruto!” comes a familiar voice and before he knows it he’s being hugged. Naruto encircles his arm around long, straight blond hair glued to a slim back. “God, I’m so proud of you,” Ino says when she finally detaches herself from Naruto, squeezing Naruto’s hands between them. “Look! Look at all this! Everything is perfect and wonderful!”

“Thanks, Ino,” Naruto says, smile genuine. “So… it’s good?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said it was _perfect_ ,” Ino sighs, looking around dreamily. “I need a tiny piece from the sun collection, by the way. I’m hanging it above my bed.”

“Gotcha,” Naruto chuckles. “You coming over to Sakura’s tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. I have somewhere to be after this so I can’t pick her up or see her,” Ino pouts. “Give her a kiss for me?”

Naruto grins playfully. “On the cheek, or?”

“On the cheek, you impudent jackass!” she yelps. “Don’t go around kissing my girlfriend.”

“Dang it, and I almost thought I had your permission right there,” Naruto kids, and the mirroring grin on her face leaves them both laughing. In a span of ten minutes, Naruto gets whisked away into four different circles. They all offer analysis of his artworks and Naruto accepts their explanations with polite laughter. He catches Shikamaru and Temari in front of a smaller painting, and they offer no explanations but Naruto thinks if they did, then they’d probably come the closest. Instead, they just tip their glasses his way—acknowledging. Then, he gets whisked away to another circle again before he comes face to face with Iruka.

He isn’t too proud to say he near-cries.

“Naruto,” Iruka laughs, accepting him into his arms. “Hey. Don’t cry. I promised you I’d come, didn’t I?”

Naruto bumbles like a fool.

“Shhh,” Iruka says, patting his hair, and he’s too tall for Iruka to comfortably reach now so he buries his face into the crook of his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here and I’m proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

Iruka consoles him for a few minutes before he forces himself to go around the room again, eyes glassy but feeling better than ever. Still, he grabs another Moscato from the passing tray and downs it. Surely a little more wouldn’t hurt. He finds Tenten in front of the 30x40 and she smiles when she sees him.

“God,” he says, accepting her hug, “I’m so glad to see you.”

Tenten pats his arm. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Your art style has changed, Naruto.”

“Yeah?"

“It’s much more experimental now,” she explains, looking up at the loud, abstract mix of golden yellows spilling against cadmium red. “In a good way. No art installations in this collection, yet?”

“Not yet, maybe next time” Naruto grins, just as Neji and Lee sidle up next to them. Neji gives Tenten a glass and drinks his own. “Hey, Neji. Lee. Doing good?”

Neji lowers his glass. “Tenten talked about your exhibit for weeks and I can see why.”

Lee nods passionately. “Yes, it completely captures the beauty of youth and life! I feel very inspired just walking around the gallery!”

“Aw,” Naruto flushes, mouth stretching to a pleased grin, “Thank you. Enjoy yourselves, alright?” Then, he leaves with one last pat to their shoulders, and looks for more social circles to greet. Someone tells him about a journalist somewhere in the crowd and that sets his nerves off again. By the time he’s made two rounds around the entire gallery, he’s entirely buzzed, grin lopsided and blood positively golden. Teetering between sleepy and too awake. Somewhere in the eastern part of the gallery, he spots a familiar raven-haired back and feels his whole body go rigid. Right. Sasuke. He hadn’t seen him since Wednesday and he looks—

Sasuke turns around and sees him.

—God, he looks so fucking good. He’s even wearing a tie and staring at that physically _hurts_. Naruto downs the last of his drink and deposits it to a tray before walking to him. Not even hiding the way his body lurches forward like he’s drawn. Sasuke’s eyebrows shoot off to space when Naruto comes close enough to blurt a, “Hi. Hi. Hello.”

Sasuke maintains a respectable distance between them. “Hello. Are you drunk?”

“Drunk? Pfff,” he says, “No, I’m not. Moscato has like, six percent alcohol content. You think I’d get drunk because of that?”

“How many glasses did you have?”

“Enough,” Naruto says.

“Enough to what?”

“Enough to tell you that you look good tonight,” Naruto professes, gulping down the tangy taste to the back of his throat, and Naruto regrets it, probably. Somewhere in his mind he does. But he’s too preoccupied by Sasuke’s searching eyes right now to even care. And the necktie. He stares at it as he continues, “You look good. Like, really, really good. You even wore a necktie. A navy blue necktie.” He reaches over to run his hands over the silk fabric. “I like neckties.”

“That makes two of us,” Sasuke says, and Naruto’s gaze snaps up until he’s watching Sasuke’s lips lilt in amusement. “I like neckties too.”

“Yes, yes. Good.” Naruto nods, peeling his hands off Sasuke’s tie. “They suit you. You should smile more.”

Sasuke snorts. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Look, you’re doing it again,” Naruto points out, squinting closer. “You’re smiling again but you keep holding it back.”

Sasuke steps away with a shake of his head. “Go get some water, Naruto.”

“Hey, c’mon, don’t leave,” Naruto protests, following Sasuke like a puppy as he walks to a quieter part of the gallery. “Where are you going? You didn’t even tell me if you liked the artworks, jerk.” Then, he notices Sasuke looking at a painting, the smallest one in the whole exhibit, and he pauses.

“I like this piece,” Sasuke says.

“What?” Naruto jerks, looking at the painting once again, a drawing of a conjoined sun and moon Naruto had originally made as some sort of a template but decided to keep for the showcase. It’s tiny and bleak, its blue-orange unceremonious compared to the other colors in the gallery, but it’s what started the entire thing. “It’s—it’s kind of an unfinished work,” he admits, looking at Sasuke, “the drawing’s the only thing with color, see? I didn’t finish it because I moved on to bigger, louder paintings but I kept it as it is anyway. It’s the only one with the white background, did you notice?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke says, off-handed, “but that’s what makes it unique. It’s quiet and unassuming but the idea of the entire collection—both the sun and the moon—is congested in this tiny painting. It’s my favorite.”

Naruto feels the breath knocked out of his lungs. “Oh.”

Sasuke spares him a look but doesn’t say anything.

As if on automatic, Naruto’s mind goes into overdrive. Suddenly, there are imposing thoughts in his mind and words threatening to tangle out of his mouth. He’s a mess of unanswered questions, feelings threatening to burst out the seams. Fumbling, he starts, “Uh, Sasuke.”

“What?”

“I just—you—” he swallows around a mouthful of useless phrases, “I just want you to know that. Um.” Sasuke looks at him questioningly. “I want you to know that, uh, are you. Did you—”

Sasuke tilts his head, and Naruto absolutely fucking loses it.

“Did you bring your car here tonight?” he blurts out in panic.

Sasuke blinks, confused. “What?”

“I just thought that, um,” Naruto babbles, stupid. Stupid. Fucking _stupid_. “I wanted to tell you that you can share with me or something if you need a ride home. Since—you’re like, going to the same apartment building as me anyway. Oh, wait. Wait, did you get your things from Sakura’s already? Nevermind that then. I mean, if you’re still going back to the apartment then the offer still stands but if you’re not then nevermind. Unless, of course, you want me to drive you to your own apartment? Which, of course, is okay. It’s fine, if you ask. I don’t have anywhere to be after this anyway—”

“Naruto,” Sasuke cuts him off, and Naruto swallows as he tries to keep his mouth shut. _Fuck._ He needs more drinks. “It’s fine. I brought my car.”

Naruto can’t hide the disappointment in his face. “Oh.”

“Thanks for the offer, though,” Sasuke says cautiously, “I’ll see you back at the apartment, alright?"

“Alright,” Naruto whispers.

Sasuke just nods, and turns back to the painting, the lights cascading around his face and muted chatter falling around them in a light shower.

Sakura is waiting by the door when he arrives.

“Naruto!” she says happily, throwing her arms around him, and Naruto squeezes once before letting go. “I missed you. How’d the exhibit go? Did you take pictures for me? Did you see Ino?”

“Calm down,” Naruto chuckles. “Everything went fine. Ino sends her kisses.”

Sakura sighs sadly. “God, if they’d given me an earlier flight I would’ve been able to go to the exhibit. I can’t believe I missed your first show.”

“It’s fine, Sakura,” Naruto reassures, “It wasn’t your fault. Just as long as you’re around for the next one, hm?”

Sakura perks up. “Of course! I promise!”

Just then, Sasuke comes up behind Sakura, holding a jet black duffel bag. Sakura turns with a smile, making way for him. She asks, “Is that all your stuff?”

Sasuke nods. “Everything’s okay, right?”

“Yeah, thanks Sasuke,” she says warmly, patting his arm, and then to Naruto she says with a gleam in her eye, “Why don’t you see him to his car, Naruto?”

Naruto panics, eyes darting from Sakura to Sasuke.

“I—”

“It’s fine,” Sasuke says. “I can handle myself. Thanks, Sakura.” He gives him a single, acknowledging nod. “Naruto.”

“Right,” Naruto quips awkwardly, and Sakura looks between them, eyes narrowed, realizing something’s wrong. Sasuke hauls his bag out to the hallway. “Good night.”

“Good night, Sasuke,” Sakura says, looking at Naruto. “Get home safe.”

At that, Sasuke just nods again and walks down the hallway, duffel bag swung to his shoulder, his retreating back making Naruto feel oddly bereft the more distance it creates. When he reaches the elevators and the doors shut close, Sakura turns to Naruto with a glare and crossed arms.

“I fucked up,” Naruto wails.

“What the hell happened?”

“I—I was supposed to confess but I chickened out the last minute,” Naruto sighs, running a hand through his hair, grimacing when he still feels pomade in it, “I told him I had something to say but ended up telling him he could share a ride with me. God. I’m so _stupid_. He has a car. He brings it everywhere he goes.”

“And after that?”

“After that, it was awkward,” Naruto says, “I excused myself immediately and didn’t even try to look for him for the rest of the show.” He chuckles deprecatingly. “What a fucking dick move, huh?”

Sakura fumes. “You fucking idiot!”

“I know,” Naruto whines, “Stop rubbing it in. I know that already. I’m not as smooth as you are. I wouldn’t have been able to hang out with him if you hadn’t forced him to all those times.”

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you.” Sakura shakes her head. “You’re normally so confident. You’ve dated and wooed people before. What makes Sasuke so different?”

“I don’t know,” Naruto says, frustrated, “He confuses me so much. He does nice things like he’d been forced to do it and like he hadn’t been given a choice. He looks at me like he’s exasperated most of the time. He doesn’t even fucking _smile_ except for that weird lip thing he does when he’s amused.” He sighs. “But I had hope, you know? Especially when you sent him to the apartment that last time. He looked so _soft_.”

Sakura furrows her eyebrows. “You mean when you guys when out to eat?”

“No, after that,” Naruto explains, “You know, when I was doing the shut-out thing and you told him to check up on me.”

Sakura just blinks at him—processing. “You mean to tell me he checked up on you when you disappeared from the face of the earth for a week?”

“I wouldn’t really call it that but yeah,” Naruto sniffs, scratching his arm. “He said you wanted me to stop eating ramen and everything and he cooked me a whole damn meal. I had so much _hope_ , Sakura.”

“Naruto.”

“What?”

“You,” Sakura exhales, “are such a fucking idiot.”

Naruto blinks. “What?”

“Listen to me,” Sakura says, “I never sent him to check up on you. That one time I forced him to eat out with you? That was the last time I bothered him because he sounded pretty annoyed about it. I never told him to stop you from eating ramen or cook you a whole damn meal.”

Naruto’s mind shuts down because— “What.”

“Naruto, I’ll say this only once, okay, so listen to me,” Sakura says, and Naruto tries to blink his daze away as she grabs his shoulders. “Listen to me: stop being a fucking idiot and ask him out. He clearly fucking likes you but you’re just too blind to see.”

“What.”

“I’m not repeating myself!” Sakura snaps, letting him go, and Naruto tries not to explode. Tries to get his thoughts into order. Because Uchiha Sasuke? Liking him? _What?_ He exhales, feeling his heartrate pick up, and then suddenly something in him snaps. Uchiha Sasuke. Likes him. Oh my _god_. He blinks wildly, looks at Sakura, and then to the elevator where Sasuke had been, and then back to Sakura.

Sakura smiles. “Finally using your brain, huh?”

Naruto catches him about to shift out of neutral. His feet park itself next to the driver’s side window, and the window slides down to reveal Sasuke’s confused frown. Naruto pants to the ground, both hands on his knees, and he raises one to gesture out a _wait, give me a second_.

“Idiot,” Sasuke says, and God, has Naruto never been so relieved to hear that, “What are you doing?”

“Sasuke,” Naruto breathes out, still bent over his knees, before dizzily standing up. “Before you leave, I need to tell you something.”

“What?

“Sasuke,” Naruto says, very seriously, “You make a mean omelette.”

Sasuke looks at him like he’s a fucking idiot and says, “What the _fuck?_ ”

“No, listen to me, I have a speech all planned out. I wrote it in my mind while I was running here. Listen,” Naruto exhales, and Sasuke just stares at him incredulously. “Sasuke, I’d like to say that the time you cooked me a whole meal was the time I realized I wanted to confess to you but the truth is, it was way before that. The minute I realized I like you, which was a year ago probably when you threatened to throw me out of the car because I stole all the crispy fries from our Burger King take-outs and left you with soggy ones, I knew I wanted to confess. And that I didn’t want this to be an unrequited, unresolved sad thing because that’d honestly fucking suck.” Naruto pauses. “I like you, and I know you probably already have an idea that I do. But I just wanted to make it clear. I like you in an I want to date you kind of way, and if you do just that, give me a chance and go on a date with me. That’d be—” He exhales out his fluttering nerves at the thought, “That’d be real nice.”

Sasuke just stares at him for a good minute. A good, long excruciating minute. An entire, quiet, suffocating minute before saying, “You are the dumbest person I have ever met,” and with bated breath, Naruto waits until he adds, “And I can’t believe I like you.”

At that, Naruto grins a full-on megawatt smile he’s certain could power up a whole city. “So is that a yes?”

“You didn’t ask a question, dumbass.”

“Oh, sorry.” Naruto furrows his eyebrows. “Uh, do you—do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Not tomorrow,” Sasuke says, “I have lunch with my brother.”

Naruto tilts his head. “Don’t you live with your brother?”

“Yes, but he’s acting like we’ve been separated for a whole year and wants to lunch with me or something.” He shakes his head. “This is why I accepted the house-sitting job in the first place. I’d do anything to get away from him.”

“Aw, Sasuke,” Naruto teases, coming closer to the window, “You don’t mean that.”

“Get off my window,” Sasuke snaps but Naruto, of course, doesn’t, and just presses closer until Sasuke pokes his nose away.

“Ow!” He brings a hand to rub his nose. “Meanie.”

“Idiot,” Sasuke throws back, leaning further into his seat. “Is that all?”

“That’s al—wait, you still haven’t told me when you’re free.”

Sasuke waves him off. “I’ll text you.”

Naruto stares at him stubbornly.

“I’ll text you, Naruto.” Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Now go home, take a shower or something. Your hair’s all oily from the gel.”

Naruto winces. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”

Sasuke then shifts gears and actually reverses out of parking this time, keeping his window open as he watches the side mirror. Naruto stares at him, still standing in the gravel of the parking lot, before yelling, “I like you!”

“The fuck—dumbass, stop yelling, you want the whole neighbourhood to hear?”

“Sorry, I just,” Naruto says, blinking at him before a dumb, blissful expression stretches across his face, “I’ll see you, okay? Drive home safe.” He walks next to the car again where Sasuke’s paused to frown at him. He smiles, “I like you a lot.”

At that, Sasuke’s face contorts and he immediately shuts his window. “Bye, Sasuke!” he says, waving at him, staring at the car peeling out of the parking lot. He blinks, that same dumbfounded smile still on his lips, before directing his laughter skyward and walking back home.

Their first date falls on a Thursday and it was a fucking _disaster_.

Confident and insistent, Naruto had firmly told Sasuke to leave all the planning to him and that he was gonna sweep Sasuke off his feet (and have him begging Naruto to kiss him by the end of the night but Naruto didn’t say that because he has some fucking _threshold_ ). Sasuke had just rolled his eyes and told Naruto to suit himself and left him to his own planning devices which—

really

was a fucking bad idea. Somehow, Naruto’s reservation had gotten cancelled (“ _No, you don’t understand, I talked to someone called Ayumi and she told me that she had my reservation listed and everything”_ ) at that hot and upcoming hang out spot downtown that served great seafood. Naruto had bargained with the bouncer for a solid minute before Sasuke had dragged him away with a polite dip of the head and a muttered apology. According to the gargoyle-faced server, they had to wait for two hours more to get a new reservation with a tone that clearly indicated he’d thought Naruto was lying about the reservation. Naruto was having none of that shit; Sasuke was having none of _Naruto’s_ shit.

“Just let it go,” Sasuke repeats, looking at Naruto staring at his steering wheel angrily. “Let it go, Naruto, it’s fine. We can just eat at another place or something. It’s not the only seafood restaurant in town.”

Naruto growls. “I don’t even like seafood anyway. It’s fishy and foul and you have to break through an entire fucking wall or something just to get to the meat.”

“Okay,” Sasuke says patiently, “No seafood then?”

“No, we’re going out for burgers,” Naruto says, starting the car. “You’re—you’re okay with that, right?”

Sasuke nods. “Yeah, burgers are fine.”

The engine starts, and then stops. Naruto frowns. He turns the key again, letting the car whirr clumsily before completely stopping. When Naruto tries for the third time, nothing happens. The car dies completely and Naruto blinks furiously for a few moments before realizing. “Piece of shit!” he curses, hitting the brakes angrily. “What is wrong with you?”

“Naruto,” Sasuke says calmly, watching him hit the car and hitting himself back in the process like the fucking idiot he is. “ _Naruto_ , Jesus fucking Christ, calm down.”

“It died!”

“Did you check the oil tanks?”

Naruto pauses before groaning. “Ugh, I was gonna check it this morning, I swear, but then the gallery called and I decided to go there by bus and forgot all about it.”

Sasuke sighs.

“Fuck,” Naruto whines, getting louder by the minute. “ _Fuck_ , I can’t believe this, oh my god. I’m a fucking piece of failure. Can’t even get first dates right. Fuck, Sasuke, I’m so, so sorry. I know you had a rare day off and I wasted it. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m such an idiot. I’m so—"

“Stop,” Sasuke snaps, cutting him off. “Stop that.” Naruto looks at him with a wounded expression. “Stop it. So you’re an idiot. So what? It’s not like I didn’t know that coming in. You’re an idiot but that doesn’t mean you have to be a loser about it. Stop shitting on yourself. It’s not like you could’ve foretold the events tonight, don’t—” he warns, and Naruto closes his mouth. “Don’t say anything. If it’s just you apologizing then I don’t want to hear it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Naruto looks at him with glassy eyes. “Sasuke….”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Sasuke says, directing his gaze ahead. “Now what do you think you should do?”

Naruto forces himself to think rationally. “Um, the overnight parking fee’s pretty cheap so I can deal with that. I’ll probably just leave it for the night and call Kiba to fix it in the morning or something.”

Sasuke nods. “Anything else?”

“Um, do you still want to eat outside?” Naruto asks, worrying his bottom lip. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to anymore. I can call you a cab or something.”

“We can go back to my place.”

Naruto pauses to take in the suggestion. “What?”

“It’s closer.” Sasuke shrugs, looking away. “Probably a 10-minute walk, if that’s okay with you. We can order take-outs instead of dealing with the long queues.”

“Isn’t your brother at home?”

“He’ll probably be home late,” Sasuke says. “He’s been meeting up with clients all day working on a new case.”

And Naruto just says, “Oh,” like the smart person he is.

Sasuke looks at him impatiently. “Well?”

“Yeah, okay.” Naruto nods, and if he’s a flight of butterflies then he hopes it doesn’t show. “Let’s do that.”

They order Chinese and eat from paper boxes in front of the t.v. Sasuke gives him extra dumplings from his own box and Naruto munches on it happily. Some corny, physical game show blares on the screen but the noise fades to the background. Naruto pokes Sasuke’s bare feet and Sasuke pokes back.

“You know,” Naruto starts, “You never told me when you started liking me.”

Sasuke exhales.

“Well?”

Sasuke says, mostly to his rice box, “That’s a story for another time,” and Naruto frowns.

“Hey, no fair! I told you mine!”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Sasuke narrows his eyes at him. “You volunteered that information yourself.”

Naruto protests. “Still, I told you! It’s pretty unfair for the confession to go one-way, you know.”

“What do you mean it went one way? I told you I liked you back.”

“That doesn’t count!” Naruto persists, “You have to do the whole confession thing. The whole speech thing. Like what I did.”

“Talking without filter is not everyone’s preferred method of confessing, Naruto.”

Naruto groans because it’s clear that Sasuke wants to be difficult about it. “Just tell me something, anything! Give me one moment you remember thinking you liked me, and it doesn’t even have to be the tipping point. Just one random moment that comes to mind.” And because he can, he turns to Sasuke with a look and says, “Please?”

Sasuke looks at him and then exhales painfully through his mouth. “You’re the most difficult person I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Yeah, but you like that right?”

Sasuke doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he just picks on the scabs of garlic on his rice and says, “That one time you told me Itachi would be proud of me.”

Naruto jerks. “Wait, _what?_ ”

Sasuke stuffs his cheeks with rice like some sort of effort to stop himself from saying anything more. Smoke would billow out of Naruto’s ears if it could. He registers the fact for a moment before repeating, a little louder, “What?”

“I’m not elaborating myself, idiot,” Sasuke grouches.

Naruto stares at him for a few seconds before breaking into an ear-splitting grin. “I never pegged you to be the type to like compliments!”

“It’s not the idea of being given a compliment,” Sasuke growls, “It’s the—you know what, nevermind, I don’t even know why I have to explain myself to you.”

Naruto presses forwards to tease. “Aw, c’mon, it’s only you and me here. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

“Get out of my face,” Sasuke complains but Naruto doesn’t stop, just draws his grin closer all over Sasuke’s space. He pushes Naruto away. “Naruto—off!”

Naruto eventually retreats to his own spot on the couch. “Grumpy.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I was telling the truth, by the way,” Naruto says, and Sasuke shoots him a look. “You’re a dick but you can be kind and you’re smart and Itachi would be real proud of you.”

Sasuke bristles, standing up presumably to throw his finished box, but Naruto sees the happy line tracing his mouth and he smiles when he realizes he’s succeeded.

Later, when Naruto makes to leave, it’s past ten and his Uber’s five minutes away from arriving. “Thanks for tonight,” Naruto says, flushing when he remembers the earlier events outside, “I, uh, that totally wasn’t cool of me. What I did earlier. I’ll do better next time, I promise. Even better than you.”

Sasuke snorts, flicking something off Naruto’s shoulder. “It’s not a competition.”

“Still!” Naruto reiterates, “I’ll blow your mind, believe it! You better get ready to be swept off your feet next time!”

“Next time,” Sasuke repeats, and his lips curl and—what. The fuck. Is that a smile? “Sure, idiot, if you don’t somehow manage to trip and bleed to death on your way home tonight like the dumbass you are.”

“I—I, jerk!” Naruto stammers, still looking at the curve of Sasuke’s mouth because oh god, that _is_ a smile, and his fingers are still curled to Naruto’s collarbone and Naruto thinks he died and gone to heaven just now, “You’re—” Smiling, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to scare the smile off, and instead he says, “—a jerk! The biggest jerk I’ve ever met!”

The smile turns wider. “Yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” Naruto says, voice lacking its usual bite, feeling his heart beat loudly in his throat. He wants nothing more but to slant his mouth against that fucking smile but he can’t, his feet heavy on the ground like weights, until it isn’t and Sasuke’s pulling him forward by the lapels of his coat and kissing him nice and square. Naruto fumbles dumbly for a few seconds before moving his mouth against Sasuke’s and sliding their noses together as he pulls Sasuke closer.

Naruto feels the vibrate of a notification against his shoulder where Sasuke had pulled him in, hand still on the phone, and Sasuke tries to detach himself from Naruto’s insistent lips except he won’t let him. Finally, he bites Naruto’s lower lip so Naruto’s forced to pull away to yell out a, “Jerk!”

Sasuke snorts—lips absolutely kiss-stricken. “Your Uber’s here.”

“Well you didn’t have to bite me to tell me!”

“You weren’t exactly letting me pull away,” Sasuke retorts. “I had to resort to other methods.”

Naruto massages his lower lip. “If it bleeds, you’re paying for my hospital fee.”

“Stop being a baby,” Sasuke snaps.

“Hmph,” Naruto says, and he looks at Sasuke for a few seconds before chirping a hopeful, “Kiss it better?”

Sasuke shakes his head, pulling him in by the shirt for a peck.

“That’s not enough!” Naruto complains.

Sasuke gives him another quick kiss.

“No, c’mon, it has to be longer! I’m hurt, you know!”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow and says, “Do you want me to bite you again?” before pulling Naruto in for the last time to give him a longer, proper kiss. He pulls away with a slight nip to his lower lip, where he had bitten earlier, and Naruto yelps. “Asshole!”

“Moron.”

“Bastard!”

“Idiot,” Sasuke says, and it does sound warm—the way it has been for the past year, “Go home, Naruto. It’s getting cold.”


End file.
